Code 7
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: Officers Hopps and Wilde have a very important mission: to get Clawhauser a delicious civet coffee for his birthday, despite Chief Bogo's protests.


_**Soli Deo gloria**_

 **I do NOT own Zootopia.**

 **So, because I can't pass up a Disney and/or Pixar production, I've seen Zootopia twice. *has epic feelz that cannot be fully expressed* . . . It has great production value. XD. GO WATCH IT.**

After that whole savage fiasco was tucked neatly into a case file and wiped out of the relieved memories of Zootopia's general population, Judy enjoyed being recognized as a true cop. Not as an officer who ignited a flame of fear and separation in their society between the predators and prey, but as a cop who made the world a better place than when she found it. That was what it meant to be a cop.

That said, Judy sometimes got given meter maid duty when it was an _extremely_ slow day. That was all right. 'Cause wise-cracking slick Nick would don his aviators and an orange-and-yellow vest and join her—as partners, they were by each other's side through every mission. Even when assigning fines to cars that stayed over two hours in a particular parking spot.

"I don't think they were thinking 'stylish' when they designed this," Nick said, snapping his thumb on the vest with distaste.

"'Functional', 'practical', and 'sensible' were their thoughts, I'm sure," Judy said, hopping back from her sixty-third ticket awarding.

"They probably went color-blind on account of this," Nick said. He squinted. "I know I'm going that way."

Besides beating each other in races to see who could give out the most tickets in a single morning, Officers Hopps and Wilde caught perpetrators jaywalking, speeding in a school zone, smoking in no-smoking areas, and leaving pawpsicle wrappers on the ground after missing the public trashcans.

These last tasks weren't imposed on them by Chief Bogo. On extremely slow days, they just got _bored_. It was either find crime, or sit with the AC on, the windows down, and the police scanner droning on about nothing.

It was on one of these extremely slow days, where any officer of any rank _begged_ for any job to do, that Chief Bogo heard four very determined paws running behind him. He sighed when he heard the enthusiastic voice of Judy Hopps: "Chief Bogo! Sir! Sir! Sir!"

"Chief Bogo, my main man. Mind if we bother you briefly? Won't take but a sec or two."

Chief Bogo growled to himself; Gazelle had just released a new music video and he wanted nothing more than to sit at his desk with his office door locked, free from any and all interruptions. Taking control of his temper, he turned back with self-control to this pair of partners and said, "What is it _now_ , Hopps, Wilde?"

"Chief Bogo, do you know what important day today is?" Judy asked him in an important voice.

"National Annoy Your Boss Day?" Chief Bogo said, not even trying to hide his unamused sarcasm.

"Besides that, obviously. . . ," Nick said. He nodded to Judy to pick up where his sentence left off.

"Today is Officer Clawhauser's birthday, sir. One of our own is getting one year older, and we need to celebrate that," Judy said, both slowly and impatiently. Her foot tapped against the tiles impatiently.

"We _need_ to, sir. It's an interdepartmental emergency," Nick said.

Chief Bogo gave the fox a raised eyebrow, entirely _not_ amused by the sly tone he used.

"Hopps, do you know how many employees work at this law-enforcement facility?" Chief Bogo asked roughly.

"Hmmm . . . let me see. . ." Her nose wiggled as she did mental math. Chief Bogo let her get as far as two seconds would let her and stopped her short before she could open her mouth. "The number is one-hundred-sixty-three. That is one-hundred-sixty-three birthdays a year. That's more than three a week, ignoring weekends. We don't have the time or resources to celebrate every single birthday that happens here. All we can do is say, 'Happy Birthday,' and then move on with our lives. His birthday means nothing right now. The only thing that matters is that he's clocked in and at his desk, taking dispatches." Chief Bogo stood up straighter and held up a hand to silence the open mouths of Judy and Nick. "I gave you your assignments this morning. You are cops who've been given a command by your chief; it would be wise to follow orders." He gave a particularly hard-set frown to Judy. "Especially those who aren't in the habit of doing so."

Judy and Nick shared a look; the assignment they'd be given was to test all the smoke alarms in the police precinct (it could be worse; Huggins, Delgado, and Wolfard were out selling charity calendars—in the middle of summer). Neither were enthralled to be soaked with each sector's water spraying system.

They had to think fast. Clawhauser was already halfway through his first box of doughnuts. They had approximately sixteen minutes before he was done with his second. And what was coffee without a doughnut with it?

Chief Bogo had just turned on his hoof, huffing and puffing as he hurried to his office, eager to watch the new music video, when the quick bunny and the sly fox appeared in front of him. They wore knowing smirks. It was maddening.

Chief Bogo pointed a hoof at them, irritated. "What have I told you about neglecting a direct order, Hopps?"

Nick smoothly said, "Doesn't that new coffee place in one of the sectors in the Rain Forest district have a raspberry latte?"

"That's right, Nick," Judy said cheerfully, stepping to his side. "They've also got a grass-scented cappuccino."

"Isn't it green with a hint of fresh morning dew?" Nick asked.

"Yes, and don't even get me _started_ on the Chinese five-spice triple latte." Judy waved her paw, gushing.

Chief Bogo stared at them; his nose started twitching from the first sentence on. Nick, about to describe a crunchy pastry, was stopped by an out-thrust paw from the Chief. "Get me that grassy cappuccino. Make it a triple, extra large. I expect you two back in thirty minutes." Chief Bogo sniffed and hurried away.

Nick and Judy watched him hulk away; the two smirked and met their paws together in a high-five. "Nicely done, partner," Nick said.

"That's what I call a hustle," Judy said proudly. Then she looked at her watch and freaked out. "THIRTY MINUTES? But we only have fifteen before Clawhauser eats all his doughnuts!"

Nicky put a hand on her shoulder. "You realize there is a simple solution to this problem, right, sweetheart?"

Judy breathed. "Yes, yes, you're right. We simply have to convince Clawhauser to set aside a box of doughnuts to eat with his coffee in thirty minutes."

"Um, no," Nick said. " _My_ solution didn't include putting the poor birthday boy into self-controlled agony."

Judy gave him a scrutinizing look. "What's your plan, then?"

"We'll pick him up a box of doughnuts on the way back." Nick put a paw on her back and led her to the parking lot to their cool cop car. "See, you always go looking for the good solution, while I find the obvious, easy solution instead. We balance each other quite well, then, looking at things from different perspectives."

"How many times out of ten do we go with _your_ solutions, again?" Judy asked sarcastically as she climbed into the driver's seat.

Nick took some moments to count as she started the engine. "On average? About one."

"For good reason," Judy said. She sighed and relented, though; she backed the car out and said, "We'll buy him a box of doughnuts, though, because it's his birthday."

"Way to go with the way smarter choice, Officer Hopps," Nick said, smirking.

Judy stopped the car short, jolting him toward the windshield. He threw her a look. "Don't provoke the driver, Wilde. It doesn't make riding safe," Judy said cheerfully.

Nick settled down in amused defeat as Judy drove them through the streets of downtown Zootopia to the Rain Forest district. Over the rain-slicked roads and swinging bridges, Judy parked in a little dirt-packed parking lot outside a bamboo hut.

Nick took off his sunglasses and whistled lowly. "This place is packed," he said, amazed. The entire lot was packed with every kind of vehicle, from tiny lemming-sized cars to the huge bicycles of giraffes. The forest lift was on a fast schedule, depositing crowds of different species into the lot.

Chatter bounced all over the place. The line was long and winding. Judy hopped and craned her neck to see how long it was. "That's got—to be—fifty animals long!" she exclaimed, horrified.

"Ah, don't forget the ones you can't see," Nick said unhelpfully.

Slack-jawed, Judy watched his pointed paw at the little lemmings sniffing the air in front of them, the other rabbits, the squirrels, the otters. "We will never get back in time!" she bemoaned.

"Yes, we won't," Nick said. He shrugged.

Judy glared at him; he lifted up his sunglasses to scroll through his cellphone contacts. "Well, we can't stand for this. What are we going to do about this?" Judy asked.

"Well, I don't know what _I'm_ going to do, but _you_ are going to call everyone we're getting a drink for and getting their drink orders, because that was a minor detail we forgot about. As for me, I am going to stand here and look pretty."

Judy glared more, but she took his cellphone and did just that. She scribbled down orders on her pad, like she was writing up a witness's descriptions. Finished in five minutes, she pocketed the notepad and said, "Okay. We just have to wait."

"Yep," Nick said. He pocketed his hands.

Judy nodded. Then she stood. Time passed. She thumped her long foot in impatience against the jungle floor. She breathed hard and tried whistling. But no. She never owned a whole lot of patience.

"Got any more brilliant ideas?" she hissed under her breath. She was on the verge of yelling, "Hey, let's move the line along, okay?" but she didn't. She was in uniform. She was on the clock. She was a calm, cool, collected, authority figure of Zootopia who _never_ lost her temper or was unprofessional.

Nick cocked his head and said, smirking, "Actually, I thought you'd never ask."

"Oh, so you were saving all your brilliant ideas FOR yourself until I begged you to share with the class?" Judy asked sarcastically; however, her face showed how grateful she was for him to have a plan, 'cause right about now, she was out of ideas.

"I was waiting for the moment I had your complete and utter attention," Nick said smoothly, sliding his sunglasses over his nose and straightening his uniform.

Judy stiffened. "You mean, you were waiting for me to be desperate? Ready to do any- and everything?"

"You know me so well, Judy. That's what makes us such great partners." Nick put his paw to his holster and said loudly, "We are in pursuit. We have a code seven, repeat, a code seven. We require backup, repeat, send us backup!"

Judy's nose twitched; her face swung around, quickly; what were they in pursuit of? Then she realized the crowd of mammals ahead of them shrank back, backed away. Nick pushed her ahead, pointing to the front of the line, "They're at the head of the line! Hopps, _move_! We gotta get them before they get away!"

Judy was torn between doing the right thing and going with Nick's plan, which she could easily piece together. They could either stay at the back of the line and wait their turn patiently, like the rest of the citizens of Zootopia, or they could use their rank and the public's ignorance for their hustle, and skip to the head of the line, and therefore complete their mission in the time allotted _and_ get Clawhauser his hot coffee on his birthday.

Judy didn't like walking the fine line between white and black. Nick, however, loved dabbling in the grey area. Usually, this was what made them such great partners. They kept each other from being too extreme on one end of the spectrum.

Judy sighed and whispered to herself, "Just this once. For Clawhauser's birthday." With a determined huff, she pulled her cop's cap down, hard, on her head, and said, hand on her holster and her bunny feet racing ahead, "The pursued is on foot, unarmed, carrying undisclosed stolen goods. The pursued is a . . ."

The crowd ducked and shrieked, watching the police in horror. They backed away, allowing them full-access to the coffee hut's counter.

Judy put her paws on the counter in an attempt to get two inches higher to look the proprietors in the face. "Good morning. My name's Officer Judy Hopps, ZPD."

The counter was run by three palm civets—monkeys, to be exact. They had big, light-colored ears, round like a mouse's; their dark eyes were big and bright in their rodent-like faces. They were inquisitive yet suspicious. They wore dark green shirts with their business's logo on it: coffee cherries spilling out of a basket, with the business's name, Civet Caffeine, on it.

"Can I take your order?" the palm civet said. Her nametag announced to the world that her name was Rho.

"Hey there. Officer Nick Wilde, ZPD, the obviously prettier and wittier partner of this bunny right here." Nick received a shove to the shoulder in reply to his teasing. "We have a few questions to ask you."

Rho wasn't interested in their little cover story. She pressed a button on her register and said, "Are you going to order or let the line go?"

"Oh, oh, you're right. Um," Judy fumbled as she pulled out her notepad. She cleared her throat; Nick took a step back, letting her take the stage. "I will take a large civet cold brew with room; an extra-large, grass-scented cappuccino with three extra shots; a Sahara sun-rise iced tea, unsweetened; a medium dark civet drip coffee with no room; a small carrot smoothie; a cherry-scented, extra-large, blended mocha with extra whipped cream, extra mocha, and a cherry on top; and Nick, what did _you_ want to order?" Judy smoothly turned to him.

Rho looked up; her speedy fingers had somehow kept up with Judy's rapid-fire order.

Nick recovered from Judy's speech; he cleared his throat and leaned his arm against the counter. "I'm an uncomplicated guy. I'll take a plain cup of coffee."

"Tiny, small, medium, large, extra-large, or jumbo?" Rho said quickly.

Nick, taken back, asked weakly, "What are the ounces of each?"

"Four, twelve, sixteen, twenty, twenty-eight, and sixty-four. Respectively." Rho sounded like she was reciting a long list she didn't like.

"Um . . . the medium, I guess."

"Light, medium, or dark roast?" Rho said, monotone.

"Um. . . medium?" Nick waved his paw around. "I guess."

"Civet or regular?" Rho deadpanned.

"Um . . . what's the difference?"

Rho sighed. Around her, her two co-workers hurried around the tiny hut, putting together the coffee orders of those waiting at the pick-up counter. Rho pointed to the carafes on her left. "These hold the regular coffee; boring roasted coffee, sourced locally from the different sectors within Zootopia." Then she pointed a hand over her right shoulder. "This is the special civet coffee, what we, in particular, are known for."

"What's the difference between the regular and the civet coffee?" Nick wondered.

Rho sighed; the line had grown by an entire lift full of uncaffeinated animals. "Regular coffee is just roasted straight from the bag. Civet coffee is kopi luwak. It's coffee beans that are processed by being eaten by us civets and then digested and then—"

"OH, okay, too much information!" Nick said, waving a paw.

Judy looked seized with horror. "This has _got_ to be some kind of health code violation," she whispered, horrified, to herself.

"— _then_ it's roasted. It's a real delicacy that keeps the crowds coming back. And yes," Rho pointed above her, where a proud row of stamped and approved certificates were pinned, "we have every permit."

"Hmmmmm . . . ah . . . hmm." Judy and Nick looked at each other, trying to think of some way to casually just step out of line and run as fast as their paws could take them back to their super-cool police car.

They weren't fast enough, though. Rho said, "I'm assuming you're going with a medium civet coffee. Do you want room?"

"Um . . . no, thanks," was all that Nick could spit out. He and Judy threw each other alarmed looks.

"Your total is $30.53," Rho said flatly. One of her fingers tapped the little tip jar, which was a small woven basket.

Judy ran the card through and Nick threw in the tip jar all the random change he had in his uniform's pockets. He stuck his paws in them as he and Judy walked, heads hanging, to the pick-up counter.

"It might've been nice if someone had told me what civet coffee was _before_ I hyped it up," Judy muttered.

"I'm slightly scarred for life right now." Nick shook his head, sighing. "Everyone's hustles are different."

"Yeah, different. That's a word for it," Judy muttered. She scratched behind her ears; "That has _got_ to be some kind of health code violation, though. . ."

"Hey, if they've got the permits, carrots, we don't have a case," Nick said.

"I know." Judy sighed.

They waited nervously; time passed slowly; but then, it took a while for two hurried baristas to make six complicated, multi-step drinks. In their wait time, Judy's walkie went off; "Officer Hopps," said Bogo's strict voice. Nick, eyes wide, stepped back. Judy gulped and spoke into her walkie, "Hopps speaking, sir."

"What is the . . . status on your mission, Officer Hopps?"

"The . . . status, sir? Ah, yes, the status of the mission. Well, sir, see. . . um. . ." Judy couldn't find the words, this time.

"Officer Hopps, your commanding officer is asking you a _very_ simple question. What is the status of your mission?" Bogo's voice told her that it would be a stupid mistake to evade him much longer.

"The status. . . um . . ." Her eyes drifted to Nick, who was gleefully gesturing wildly to the big to-go tray full of drinks. "The status of the mission is that we have bringing them in right now, sir. We've got them in our custody and bringing them in to the station." Judy's voice was full of relief as Nick topped some of the drinks off with milk and undertook the grand task of taking up that huge tray into his arms and carrying it to the car. "We'll be back in less than fifteen minutes, sir."

"Hmmph. Your timing is off, Hopps."

Judy gulped. "I know, sir."

"Come to my office when you arrive."

"Sir, yes, sir. Hopps out."

Judy and Nick gave each other a long look once they'd settled into the driver and passenger seats. Then they burst; Judy let out a low, heavy sigh, and Nick laughed. "Oh, what acting, what code! What a hustle, sweetheart!" Judy covered her eyes, but gave Nick her paw to answer his call for a high-five.

* * *

Clawhauser's response to his extra-special birthday coffee was worth the entire trip. His eyes widened, he put his big paws to his fluffy cheeks; he almost couldn't breathe for a moment; Nick patted his back, though, and reminded him that breathing was kind of important.

What was better was that Clawhauser still had half a box of doughnuts left; Nick and Judy had realized two seconds after they'd handed him his coffee that their rush back to the station had made them forget about picking up a dozen; as it turned out, though, Clawhauser'd gotten into a conversation with a visiting lady about gardening and Gazelle, and he had almost forgotten about his doughnuts! _(Almost._ Still, Judy and Nick sighed in relief. Crisis averted.)

Now he passed the box around to Nick and Judy and, doughnut in one paw and the cherry-scented mocha in his other, he said, "You guys, this is the best birthday ever!" He cheered and took a big bite of doughnut and a big gulp of his coffee. His face scrunched up and if his mouth wasn't so full, he'd be shrieking from happiness.

Judy and Nick ate their doughnuts and licked their paws; then they looked at each other and eyed the other's drink. "You went on a safe route," Nick said, sighing, nodding to her carrot smoothie.

"And you didn't," Judy said sympathetically. He gave her sad eyes as they toasted and took a sip from their respective drinks.

Judy's ears laid back and she closed her eyes and smiled: hmmmm. "I swear I'm back home at the carrot farm." Then she opened her eyes and looked at Nick. "How is it?" she asked cautiously.

Nick smacked his lips together and stared at his little brown-lidded paper cup. "You know, that isn't half-bad." He took another sip. "That's better than better than half-bad. That's pretty amazing." He took a big gulp. "If I could just erase the horrible story of how it's made, this is the best cup of coffee I've ever had." He offered it to Judy; she gave him a suspicious look, searching for the mischievous gleam in his eyes betraying the fact that he was teasing her.

She didn't find it. So she tasted the coffee.

"WHOA." Her big eyes got bigger. She took another gulp and gasped. "That's _really_ amazing."

"Yes, it is, and it's also mine. Like you need more caffeine, Judy," Nick said. He almost had to rip it out of her paws.

"Okay, okay," Judy said, relenting. She hopped and grabbed the drinks tray from the front desk counter. "Let's go deliver these before they get cold." She waved a paw at Clawhauser. "Happy birthday, Benjamin."

"Yeah, happy birthday, big guy," Nick said.

"Aw, thanks, you guys. You're the best friends I could ever ask for," Clawhauser said genuinely.

Nick and Judy left him to his sweet treats; down the halls they went, dropping off the coffees they had picked up to the selected officers; they saved the hardest for last. They had one drink left on their tray by the time they stood outside Bogo's door.

"One last stop," Nick said.

Judy inhaled deeply. "Let's do this."

She knocked; the faint sound of pop music stopped playing, and the disgruntled grunting of the chief let them know to come in.

They did so; Chief Bogo stood up from his desk and said, "Thirty minutes late, Officers Hopps, Wilde. I also heard that there was some abuse of your position involved in your 'mission' today?"

Nick stepped forward. "There might've been that, sir, but it was well-intended. We never meant to hurt anyone. It was just a means to get to an end."

"And you're trying to use your end to justify your means?" Bogo said, displeased.

"Yeah, maybe a little bit," Nick admitted.

Judy held up the cardboard tray on her paw. "Here's your extra-large, grass-scented cappuccino, sir."

Chief Bogo stopped, and took up his drink. He raised it to his lips, but he gave them each a look beneath his nose before he took a sip.

"With three extra shots, just as you like it," Judy said easily.

She and Nick waited in anticipation. Time stretched on longer and longer, though, as the Chief wouldn't stop his long, long, _long_ sip.

He finally straightened and let out a satisfied sigh. He gently placed the empty cup back onto the tray in Judy's paw and said, "You wanted to make the world a better place, Officer Hopps; for some, like me, you just did. Maybe it's not always big, heroic things. Maybe it's the small, thoughtful, kind things. You're both dismissed."

Nick and Judy looked at each other; he nodded toward the door and she nodded in agreement. Both knew to not say a word until they had a door closed safely between them and their commanding officer.

Nick had the door almost eased closed when they heard Chief Bogo say, "But, so I don't have to write you up for abuse of position, I want you two to do penance; you both have meter maid duties for the rest of the day."

Nick and Judy shared a look; it was a due punishment. Judy felt like they deserved it, in the end. _This_ time. "Sir, yes, sir," they both said in unison.

They both leaned against the closes door and let a heavy, relieved breath roll out of their bodies. They looked at each other and Judy held up a paw for a high-five.

"Mission accomplished, partner," she said.

"That's what I call a hustle, sweetheart," he said.

 **I think I got at least three of the officers' names wrong. :P**

 **Anyways, Judy-Nick!Friendship for the win!**

 **Thanks for reading! Review?**


End file.
